The Charm School by Nelson Demille

Author:Nelson Demille
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: FIC006000, Espionage, Fiction
ISBN: 0446353205
Publisher: Twtp Assorted
Published: 1988-01-01T06:00:00+00:00

27

Sam Hollis and Lisa Rhodes moved with the crush of worshipers through the open doors of the church. The people carried their blessed food in bags, and many of them clutched a handful of the thin brown candles. Hollis looked out over the converging paths. These people, he realized, did not seem to know one another, did not speak, nor did they try to make acquaintances. They had come by metro and bus from all over Moscow to an inconveniently placed church, and now they scattered like lambs who smelled wolves. “Do the K-goons usually hang around?”

“Who? Oh, those men. Sometimes. But I don’t see them now.”

Hollis didn’t see them either. But he worried more about the KGB when he didn’t see them. He moved off the path and watched the people coming down the steps.

“Are you looking for someone?”

“Just people-watching.” Hollis realized that not only were the worshipers scattering, but the priests had not come out to speak with their flock. As he watched for Surikov, he said to Lisa, “No tea and fellowship afterwards?”

Lisa seemed to understand. “The Orthodox Christian comes to God’s house to worship Him. The priests don’t come to your house to ask how you’re getting along.”

“The Kremlin must find that useful.”

“True. In fact, the Russian church has always preached subservience to the state. When the czars were on the throne, it worked for the church and the czars. But when Lenin became the new czar, it backfired.”

“You mean there’s something I can’t blame on the Reds?”

“The communists didn’t help the situation.”

Hollis watched the last of the worshipers leave the church but did not spot Surikov or the girl with him.

He and Lisa walked away from the church and sat on a stone bench occupied by a stout babushka who seemed to be sleeping in a sitting position. Lisa asked, “Did you like the service?”

“Very much. We take so much for granted in the West.”

“I know. Thanks for coming, even if you came because you had to go to the cemetery anyway.”

“I came to be with you.”

She nodded and looked up in the sky. “This is not like autumn at home, and it’s not like winter either. It’s something else. It’s like a time of foreboding, grey and quiet, mist and fog obscuring the world. I can’t see a sun or a horizon or even the end of a block. I want to go home now.”

Hollis took her hand. “We’ll be in the air this time tomorrow, heading west.”

She moved closer to him. “Do you have to go to the cemetery?”

“Yes.”

“It’s not dangerous, is it?”

“No. I just have to meet an old Russian friend to say good-bye.”

“A spy? A dissident?”

“Sort of.”

The old lady stood and moved aimlessly down the path.

Lisa said, “At Gogol’s grave. Was that his idea?”

“Yes.” Hollis looked at his watch. The service had lasted about two hours, and it was nearly noon. Now he knew why Surikov had picked this hour and place. “I won’t be more than thirty minutes. Where can I meet you?”

“At the bell tower there.

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